


Throw Away The Sun

by clarapaget



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Alice is a vigilante, F/F, Happy Ending, Hedgewitch!Alice, It's part of the plot, Librarian!Kady, alternative universe, background Marqueliot, i need to work on pacing, ignore the obvious plot-holes, maybe Kady is a little ooc I'm sorry I trie, the singular bed trope but mild, they have a daughter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-08
Updated: 2019-04-08
Packaged: 2020-01-07 02:14:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18401084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clarapaget/pseuds/clarapaget
Summary: Alice Quinn has been imprisoned by the Library on the charges of hoarding and the overuse magic. She’s been there for three months and misses Earth, where daisy peeked up from the ground and the sun brightly shone.  And a quest she had not finished fulfilling. One day, instead of Zelda visiting her, there’s a new Librarian: Kady Orloff-Diaz.





	Throw Away The Sun

Alice, feeling desperately alone and forever confined, pressed her pale hand up against the grey, shuddering wall of her cell. The Library tormented her, if not by daily visits from Zelda, then by the emptiness that lingered beside her always. She was not even quelled nor comforted by the deep, hearty voice of the man imprisoned next door.

The door clicked, the sound of magic becoming undone, and opened to reveal Zelda. She was prim, held her hands in a delicate fashion, and over-did it on the cherry red lipstick. Alice never wanted to admit that Zelda had kind eyes; it didn’t fit with her uncharitable attitude. 

On one of the days that Zelda had come to visit Alice, she’d told Alice that she wanted to fix her. Somehow, Zelda thought, one could cure the greed of another. She gently set down the tray with Alice’s food and gave her a once over and left. But now Zelda stood shockingly still; no tray of food in her hands. Instead, she held a leather-bound book.

“Hello, Alice,” Zelda said, approaching with a forbearing posture. Her incredibly long pants swished around her legs and ankles. Zelda shielded herself with lengthy clothing. It made Alice wonder how much the Librarian must either crave touch or despise it. Alice herself missed the touch of another’s skin; warm and smooth, a gentle patch that she could run her hands along and send trembles through someone else. She would not get hospitality from Zelda, however. It was amusing to even think something like that.

“Back to taunt me?” Alice droned. It’d been over a month since Alice had been thrown in here. Her voice had begun to lose its buoyancy; she’d become monotonous, an automaton, frugal in the way she used her words.

“You know that’s never why I’m here,” Zelda replied, tutting. She placed down the book on the table that rested coldly beside Alice’s barren bed. It was truly more of a metal rectangle with a brick mattress than any kind of bed. “I’m here to help you get better.”

“So locking someone up, void of any other human contact besides _you_ , is supposed to help me how?” Alice asked. The strength in her voice rose, but she knew she was practically powerless against Zelda. She could only retaliate through the viciousness that flowed from her mouth, rolled casually off the tip of her tongue.

“Alice…” Zelda began, cutting herself off. “Here. I’m assigning a required reading. I can not allow you contact with others for fear of… you ‘joining’ up with one another and raising a faulty rebellion. You have nothing to do but wither here alone. That is no good. So read this book instead, Alice.”

She glanced at Alice one last time before leaving. The door slammed behind her and the application of magical wards sounded through the thick metal. It was a sound, the sound of magic and nothing else, that induced Alice and made her feel whole. She missed magic just as much as she missed the presence of other humans. Anyone, she thought, anyone but Zelda.

Alice rolled off the bed and stood, brushing her grey-blue prison attire. It fit loosely around her; the crinkles of restless nights were heavily prominent on the material. She looked to the desk, at the leather-bound book. Alice always loved reading; it inspired her and pulled her often into hundreds of beautiful, fictional worlds. _Meditations_.

She turned the cover page and looked at the yellowing paper. Her fingers ran down the page and Alice sucked in a tight breath. _Home_. _Home_. _Home_. The smell of home returned to her, settled her, and she flipped to the next page. Curling letters lifted from the paper and Alice traced the sweet words that trailed along the page. Zelda had hit her with something she’d forgotten; something that would trigger her invaluable senses: the homely feeling of a book.

 

⚀

 

Two precious days passed and Alice had gorged herself in Marcus Aurelius’s thoughts. It startled her, however, when Zelda dropped by to see how she was doing. This was Alice’s ultimate weakness. She could see how proud Zelda was of herself for thinking of this grand idea to push Alice away from her isolated shell. 

Though, today everything started shifting. Alice had a new book now and was treading her fingers through the delicate pages. Instead of a simple click of the lock opening to announce Zelda’s arrival, there was a knock. A young knock, full of emphasis and acute, precise, wanting acknowledge. Then the lock finally clicked and the door slowly peeled open.

It was not Zelda, but Alice had already anticipated someone else when she heard the knock. Instead, it was someone she never would’ve suspected to be a Librarian, though she dressed as one and… indeed _was_ one. How could she be though? Her dark hair pulled back into the delicate victory rolls style that accentuated her perfectly sharp cheekbones that seemed like they could slice directly through Alice; split her into two with a forbidden precision. She wore magnificent cat-like glasses that sat high upon her narrow, rounded nose, alerting Alice to her own blocky glasses. And unlike Zelda, this Librarian pulled off the cherry red lipstick like a genuine 50s heartthrob. She was a Librarian to be smitten with. 

Alice sat upright instantly, unaccustomed to the idea that someone besides Zelda was actually here to visit her. The Librarian walked into the cell with uncertainty, as if she wasn’t supposed to be here; as if she were a timid schoolgirl approaching her crush for a Sadie Hawkins-type moment. 

“You’re new,” Alice said first. She never initiated conversation with Zelda; only got involved when it was actually her invited turn to speak. But she wanted to speak to this new face. She wanted it so desperately that it shoved magnets into her shoes and held her to the ground, saving her from jumping up and somehow rushing into the arms of this stranger. God, she missed earth and it’s setting sun and it’s friendly yet cold people.

“Yes, Zelda sent me,” she answered. There wasn’t anywhere comfortable to sit, so the Librarian just stood there timidly. Alice stood up herself and walked cautiously toward the Librarian. “You are not permitted to have outside contact with any other… criminals. Though, Zelda told me you were asking for someone to talk with.”

Alice scoffed. “Criminals?” 

“…Yes,” the Librarian repeated, confused. 

“I’m not a criminal,” Alice said. She backed away from the Librarian, moving to stand closer to the metal table. Her hand brushed over the new book Zelda had given her yesterday. It was something she’d never heard of before; the authors named had been rubbed away. How many times had Zelda recommended this book to another prisoner?

“Then why are you here? If you’re not a criminal,” the Librarian retorted. She sighed. “Here’s the thing: I don’t know you, that’s why Zelda sent me. I don’t know your name, I don’t know your crime. Pleasure me with the details, if you truly don’t think you belong to be here.”

Alice blinked twice, stunned and mesmerized. When Zelda came by, their interactions were quick and quite meaningless. _Food_. _Book_. _See you tomorrow_. She knew she was not a criminal, but it would be convincing a _Librarian_ that would be the hard part getting past. 

“Well, my name is Alice,” she started. A clean slate. Someone who didn’t know her. Someone who hadn’t, for some reason before coming to visit her, read her book. This Librarian had access to every inch of Alice’s life; access to memories Alice had long forgotten, yet she didn’t take a single peak at any of it. “I’m a hedge. The Library, as you probably know, don’t like hedges. According to them and every other ‘perfect’ magician, hedges practice weak and untrained magic. But we’re just as strong as everyone else, we just didn’t get the silver end of the spoon.”

“I don’t believe that,” the Librarian said, before clarifying. “The thing about hedges. That you’re not strong. You’re in here, so obviously you are in some way.” Alice smirked at her; she did not believe the Librarian. 

“I’m not saying anything else,” Alice said, “unless you tell me a little about yourself. I’ve never seen you before. The only interactions I’ve had were with Zelda, and she’s like a stone lodged inside your shoe. I don’t think there’s one interesting thing about her.”

The Librarian took a further step into the room, closing the door behind her. Alice had been so overcome with the presence of the Librarian that she hadn’t realized it was still wide open. She’d missed such an easy chance to escape. But she didn’t have magic, and the Librarian would probably have restrained her immediately. She remained silent. 

“Kady.”

“Nice name for a Librarian.”

Kady raised her brows cheekily with a look of superiority about her. She made it to the desk and dragged the metal chair along the ground to sit. The metal scratched against the floor creating a sound that sent shivers of disgust down Alice’s spine.

“Thank you, Alice,” Kady said. “I’m quite new to the Library. I pledged my service not long ago. Hedges are not common where I’m from, so I do not know about the hatred that clouds others about them. I agree; you do not seem cruel.”

Kady articulated her words quite well; Alice assumed she’d practiced a speech similar to this countless times. Her words sounded real, but not genuine. Alice could not grasp any hint about Kady’s personality, just the inhumanness of the Library that had been drilled into her. Perhaps, though, if Alice spent enough time with her, that would all wear away.

“I’m not cruel,” Alice repeated. “Just hungry to have magic at my fingertips. Too kind. Too eager to help. I think everyone deserves that chance, after all. Everyone with magical abilities should be able to learn and grow and improve their skill.”

“I feel the same,” Kady said.

Alice sat back on her bed now; Kady in the metal chair. It did not feel like an interrogation anymore, but a confession of sorts. There was hidden information inside Alice; the heat she felt when Kady glanced over her, the flare of tingles that ran along her skin when Kady spoke, when Kady said her name. Alice wondered if peoples books recounted their thoughts and emotions. What would happen if Kady went and searched for hers, read it and found out these secret things that Alice thought? And if Kady did, would Alice mind? Would she be into that? Open to it?

“I’m getting tired,” Alice yawned. “Come back tomorrow.”

“Do you think I will?” Kady asked, curiously. She was a Librarian, she had not expected such an order. But it intrigued Kady nonetheless. 

“I think Zelda is getting tired of me,” Alice replied. “I think she thinks you’ll finally crack me.” Alice moved to lie down and stared up at the mute ceiling, refusing to look at Kady one last time. The Librarian would surely be found in her dreams tonight.

“That might be a little true,” Kady said. A blush crossed her cheeks, she knew, but Alice didn’t turn to see it, and Kady was thankful. 

Kady got up from the metal chair and left. The room felt cold once again, Alice hadn’t noticed the empty chill when Kady hadn’t first been there. She thought of Zelda and the relief she felt when Zelda left; it was not the same with this new Librarian.

Alice knocked against the wall, alerting the person on the other side.

“Want to talk?” Alice called. 

“Always,” the voice replied. 

 

⚀

 

Kady returned the next day, her hair still pinned perfectly up and her cherry red lipstick shimmering on her kind lips. An image of Alice pressing her own lips upon Kady’s passed through her mind and Alice felt an icy chill waft through her. It became unbearable, the distance that separated them. Alice was cold all at once with the idea of never being near enough to Kady. But it was impossible, the things that she dreamed.

“You’re back,” Alice breathed when Kady entered her cell.

“You told me to come,” Kady said, returning to sit down once again in the metal chair. The same sound of scrapping metal clanged in the air, reaching the hidden corners of the room with its atrocity. It was subtle torture to Alice. 

“What do you do?” Alice asked immediately. “For the Library.”

“I’m mostly an editor. I don’t qualify for sorting books yet,” Kady replied. “Zelda trusts me, though. She says I will soon be promoted, but I can’t ever see when.” 

“Have you read my book?” Alice pestered on. There were things she needed to know. If Kady could grant them, then perhaps relief could someday come for her.

“No,” Kady said. “I will get to know you when I come to see you. There is no need for me to pry.”

“But you’ve read other peoples books before, right?”

“Only ones I’ve edited,” Kady said. “I think Zelda trusts me enough not to make any biased judgment.”

“If only,” Alice muttered to herself. If only everyone else did the same. The rest of the Librarians focused solely on the ideas they were accustomed to. If only Zelda could see that Alice wasn’t a threat; to the Library, to the world, to herself. All she wanted was to help a little girl and now she would never see flowers push forth into the sun again. 

“You never told me why the Library brought you here,” Kady said suddenly. Alice was in mid-thought. There had been a small silence; what had Kady been thinking herself. Had she just been watching Alice contemplate?

“I trusted people too much, I guess,” Alice responded. Must she truly elaborate?

“My father died when I was five. I do not remember him, and barely my mother. She was imprisoned for protest. I can not remember a thing in the world that she trusted. I was raised in an orphanage. Among others with similar stories. It felt like a prison to me; there was no freedom in those thick walls,” Kady started. “You do not trust people now, I can see. If you did, you would tell me more than that. But I can assure you, Alice, you can trust me.”

Alice looked up at Kady. She’d been staring at the floor, avoiding obvious sensations of appetence.

“You’re different,” Alice said. “But I’ve forgotten trust.”

“That’s okay,” Kady replied. “You can always tell me later.” She stood up.

“Are you leaving already?” Alice asked quickly. Her mind raced; she did not want Kady to leave so early. Possibly she could reach out and stop her. Race to the door and make Kady force her out of the way. _Something_. 

“Do you want me to stay?”

Alice paused. _Yes_. Her heart thudded against her chest. Kady stood only inches from the door, her hand balancing steadily on the handle. Alice’s eyes narrowed to her slender fingers; the nails were polished and painted clear.

“If you want to,” Alice said.

“No,” Kady shook her head. “Do _you_ want me to stay?” 

“Yes,” Alice said greedily and a little too quickly. She said it like there was no time to spare. That if she didn’t reply with ‘yes’ the world would somehow crumble beneath her touch and Alice would fall forever, guilted with regret.

“Why?”

“I’ll tell you why I’m in here,” Alice replied. A gentle, trusting smile, tugged on Kady’s lips and she lifted her hand off the handle. A sigh, a flush of alleviation, ran through Alice. 

“Okay, continue.”

Alice waited until Kady took a seat. Her hands trembled in her lap. This was nothing to be ashamed of; she did nothing wrong and Kady would completely understand that. She summoned steady breaths and began.

“They came for me three months ago, the Library,” Alice started. “It was when I was trying to help this young girl. This child. She was lost, wandering the streets, cold and lonely and I couldn’t just stand there like everybody else. I asked her for her name and she told me. I asked her if she was lost and she said yes. I told her I would help her and she was gratefully relieved. There was a coffee shop nearby and we walked to it. I told her that I would make sure we were always among a crowd, so that she would trust me not to abduct her. She nodded. When we got there I bought her some hot chocolate and seated her at one of the tables. I snuck a clip of her hair, secretly and pocketed it. I told one of the employees to please keep an eye on her while I went to the bathroom. Using her hair and her name, I did a simple locator spell, trying to find her parents. I had to use more magic than necessary. The Library found me, in the bathroom. I never got the girl back to her parents.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” Kady said, shaking her head. “Where were her parents? How does a locator spell need that much… magic?”

“They weren’t on Earth,” Alice replied. “They must’ve abandoned her. I never got the girl back. I never got her back and I never would’ve been able to.”

A tear fell down Alice’s cheek; it fell swiftly and onto her prison garb. Kady noticed it,;she inched closer to Alice. Got up from the chair and came over to the bed. Her arm moved around Alice’s shoulder and Kady lifted Alice’s chin gently with her forefinger and thumb. 

“How could they do that?” Kady whispered. She was reluctant to believe, but this was the truth. And Kady felt it, unsteadily still, like a bad fever.

“The Library doesn’t like when a hedge uses too much magic to perform simple spells. They think we’re starting something bad. That we don’t deserve magic because we’ll only do cruel things,” Alice said. 

“No,” Kady muttered. Her breath flushed against Alice’s face; Alice’s cheeks warmed at the handless touch. “Listen to me, Alice, listen to me.”

Alice leaned against Kady. Her body was warm, so warm against Alice. A flood of vibrations breached her skin as Kady spoke. There gave way for possibility within the tone of her voice. Alice screamed internally for more.

“What?”

“We’ll find that girl,” Kady whispered so the world couldn’t hear. “ We’ll find that girl. Together. We’ll find her and bring her back to her parents.”

“You’ll get me out of her? Out of this cell?” Alice said, her voice hushed and excited. The thought of Kady freeing her, Kady and her working together, resonated happily within her. _Together_. Together to do good, to finish what Alice was ripped away from. 

“Yes.”

“When?”

“Right now,” Kady replied. She reached for Alice’s hand and took it. Alice blushed deeply, red coating her cheeks like the lipstick Kady wore. If Kady noticed, she said nothing. “Zelda does not expect me back for another half hour.”

“I must get my book. They will know where I am,” Alice breathed.

“Okay,” Kady said. “I will take you there.”

Together they stood and left the barren room. Alice was glad to leave. She no longer felt hollow in the hallway; still not whole, but somehow better than before. Kady still gripped her hand as they silently tore down the corridor until they reached another door that Kady swiftly opened. 

Tall, compact shelves stretched endlessly down the room. Books varying in shapes and sizes, depths and width. Faded colors escalated between each book. It was easy to tell who’s books held more value. What would the spine of Alice’s book look like when they found it?

The two women split up, a silent nod passing between them. Alice took the right side, Kady the left, and they scanned the shelves from top to bottom. This was not an easy task and it needed to be done fast. Kady had flowing magic tangled in her thin fingers and Alice could only just taste the freedom. She would soon remember the happiness of magic, but only if they found Alice’s book and escaped.

“It’s here,” Kady called in a low voice. Alice rushed toward the sweet sound. She watched Kady swiftly remove the book and reach once more for Alice’s hand. It was an odd comfort.

“What about your book?” Alice asked. 

“It is in the poison room. They will not go in there,” Kady answered. “And we do not have the time nor luxury to do so ourselves.” Alice nodded. 

Kady led Alice from the room full of books; complete stories of peoples lives, lived and un-lived. They tore down the corridor, five minutes to spare. After running in silence for what Alice imagined forever, Kady stopped them at a narrow door. She handed Alice’s book over and began reciting a spell, performing the intricate hand movements that followed. Alice watched her fingers work together in grace, illuminated by the ease at which Kady skillfully moved. Hedges were not as neat as other magicians; Alice was impressed but slightly jealous at the grace in which Kady cast her magic. 

“Come,” Kady said. “Quickly.”

They slipped together through the door and into the streaming daylight of New York. The people around them brushed by, busy with their own lives, not noticing their appearance out of seemingly nowhere. Alice looked up, into the sky, and felt the warm glow of the sun embracing her. The light streamed across her cheeks and Alice took an eager breath. 

“I have an apartment,” Alice told Kady. “We should go there. Plan our course for finding the girl.”

“Okay,” Kady replied. 

They no longer walked hand in hand. There was no need to race against time. But Alice missed the dash of warmth she felt when Kady’s palm pressed against hers. The gentle grip at which she tugged. 

Alice’s apartment, it seemed like a miracle, was not far from where they entered New York. Only a few blocks away and tucked high in the caressing nature of the buildings. Avoiding the rattle of the Manhattan streets, Alice pushed Kady inside, and up the shaky elevator they rode. It was a silent journey, though there was truly no need for it. They could talk once more without fear, but the looming idea of the Library still lingered beside them.

“We should probably change clothes,” Kady finally spoke, gesturing to the prison garb that Alice still wore. “I will be glad to wear my hair down again.”

“But I like your hair,” Alice pouted. 

“You’ll like it better when it’s loose,” Kady replied. Alice swore she saw her wink. A flush trembled through her. She wondered whether Kady was flirting with her. It must be.

“Maybe,” Alice said. “You can borrow some of my clothes for now.”

Another bought of silence blossomed around them as Alice led Kady to her bedroom. The walls were painted a delicate pink, and dead flowers sat forgotten on the windowsill. Her bed was still made and looked dry and cold; barren. Alice went immediately to the flowers, frowning. They’d been a gift from her neighbor, Todd. Had he noticed the lengthiness of Alice’s departure? Her absence that must’ve lingered among someone. She did not have many hedge-witch friends. Perhaps no one had even noticed she’d been gone. 

“I’ll change somewhere else.”

Alice turned and saw Kady already holding some articles of clothing. She nodded, a tear slipping. Kady left and Alice collected herself, moving toward her rich closet. 

From her closet, Alice grabbed a formal pair of black jeans and a loose t-shirt. The bagginess of the prison garb affected her. She did not like the tight hug of clothing. It no longer made her feel protected. 

When she was dressed, Alice returned to the living room where Kady sat staring absentmindedly out the large window. The solitary pair of ripped jeans that Alice forgot she owned was now donned on Kady, coupled with a navy tank and a flannel jacket leftover from Alice’s ex-girlfriend. God, that seemed ages ago. She looked now and saw Kady’s hair; fine and tumbling with hundreds of little curls that hung perfectly coiled. The victory rolls she’d once wore, a custom Librarian look, undone by the simplicity of magic and replaced with heavenly beauty. The cat-like glasses were no more. Alice was mesmerized. Kady was right. She did like it better loose. 

“Hey,” Alice breathed out, and Kady turned away from the window. A smile crossed her face. They’d known each other less than two days, but Alice realized Kady looked at her with more passion than anyone else had done in her entire life. 

“You look good,” Kady said. “Better than the prison jumpsuit you were wearing.” A nervous grin twitched on Alice’s face and she tried hard to bite it back.

“Let’s get started, shall we,” Alice coughed, breaking the tension that tangled between them. Alice wandered further into the living room and took a seat on the couch near Kady. A large map of New York had been spread out, Manhattan slim in the upper corner, the Bronx just a touch above, and beneath it, Brooklyn glimmered beside Queens. 

“What was the girl’s name?” Kady asked. “That’s all we have to go off.” She ran her hands across the map, spreading it out and flattening the creases. 

“Eliza,” Alice said. The name was foreign on her tongue as if it was told to her once, long ago in a different time. “Eliza Hanson.”

Magic was coming back to Alice, she could feel it suddenly. The rapid tingles that took through her bloodstream, ignited her veins. It was a part of her returning; the mending of something; something equivalent to a broken heart. And together, with this returning magic, Alice and Kady laid the foundations of a locator spell. 

“If we find her, do you think she’ll hate me?” Alice asked quietly. “I abandoned her like her parents did.”

“You didn’t abandon her, Alice,” Kady reminded. “The Library took you, but you’re free now. If it is easy, you can tell her, and I trust she will understand.” Kady placed a hesitant hand over Alice’s to comfort her. For a moment, Alice let Kady’s hand rest there, but she grabbed it away like fire had whipped it with its flaming touch.

“The spell won’t locate her exactly,” Kady carried on, her face solemn, trying to focus once more on the task at hand. “But we will be able to put a pinpoint on the vicinity nearby of where she is. If we have to, we will check every building in that area.”

The light from the locator spell hovered over Manhattan, brightening the strip of land on the crinkled map. It did not stay there long before crawling slowly upward to the Bronx. The light focused near the center and Alice traced her mind of the familiarity. 

“She’s in the Bronx area,” Kady said as though it were some huge revelation. 

“She’s with hedges,” Alice whispered. “There’s a huge hedge-witch community up in the Bronx. They have different warehouses and other buildings, but that is their largest one. I’ve only been there once, when I was starting to learn magic.”

Kady began to fold up the map. “Take us there.”

They would have to take a Bronx-bound train to get there. Alice’s apartment was located in midtown Manhattan and the two needed to head north. But it wasn’t long before they arrived, the night life glittering around them. People flushed by, not as crowded as Manhattan, but still quite so. They tousled against strangers, streetlights stretching out a pathway for them.

Alice and Kady stayed near one another, hands brushing every so often. Though each others presence did nothing to sate the qualms within them.

Finally, they reached the hedge-witch warehouse and Alice, her hedge-witch star tattoos lining her arm, marking deeply on her skin, lifted them up to the door. A moment passed before the door opened and a dark-skinned man, narrow and with traces of facial hair, greeted them. His name was Penny, and he brought them to a large room. 

It all felt too easy. Escaping the Library with Kady, a Librarian, new and fresh and beautiful; tracking down Eliza in the Bronx; greeting Penny, and his mysterious generosity. Alice had been locked up by the Library for trusting too easily. She was nervous for that to somehow happen again. After she’d made it this far. But something settled within her. She felt oddly safe too. 

“Eliza!” Penny called. 

A short girl with bronze skin turned around. Masses of dark hair ran messily down her face. Her eyes were punctured with a golden hue. She was a pretty child; scared and hardened and missing a piece of her. Alice realized now that she was; she could feel it from the shaky breaths that Eliza breathed out. It had felt this way when Alice was without magic.

She recognized Alice and came cautiously toward her. Kady had placed her hand on Alice’s shoulder, steading both herself and Alice. Alice realized all Kady had to go off on was Alice’s word. And now the hardness of the truth was being brought forth; the realization that the Library truly had imprisoned Alice on false charges. Her fingers dug into the cloth that covered Alice’s shoulder. 

“You can breath now, Kady,” Alice whispered. “It’s okay. It’s fine. We’ve found her.”

Eliza came closer. Alice knelt down, and Kady stayed standing.

“Why did you leave me?” Eliza teared up. 

“I didn’t leave you,” Alice replied. “I was taken. I was taken from you, but I’m back now and I will continue to help you search for your parents.”

“How did you end up here?” Kady asked.

“Pete. The nice man that Alice told to watch me,” Eliza said. “She didn’t return for hours. I was so scared at first, but I’m okay. I knew magic was real. My parents are all magicians. Why didn’t you tell me you knew magic too, Alice?”

Alice’s breath hitched. The little girl had known about magic all along. It could’ve saved her the secrecy. It could’ve saved her from imprisonment. But she would’ve never met Kady. And a part of her knew she needed Kady; to be there alongside her, to help her relocate Eliza, to help Alice find Eliza’s parents.

“Who are you?” Eliza asked Kady.

“I’m a friend of Alice’s,” she replied. “I’m going to help you too.” Alice stood back up. She blinked wildly. _Friend_. _A friend of Alice’s_. Alice didn’t have friends. All she had was Todd, and he was her neighbor.

“Are you two dating?”

Alice became flustered, and Kady hid a smile. 

“No,” Kady said. “But maybe one day.” _But maybe one day_. The thought resonated at the forefront of Alice’s brain. Her heart was racing a million miles a minute. “We have to find your parents first.”

“Okay,” Eliza agreed.

 

⚀

 

Alice thanked Penny for allowing them entrance without a problem. He told them Eliza had been eagerly awaiting the return of Alice, or her parents; either would have satisfied Eliza. Penny told Alice that she was a very resilient young girl, very hopeful and full of youth. No matter the stress and shaky happenstance, Eliza always pushed through.

The young girl went with Alice and Kady back to Alice’s apartment. There had been no time to stop for dinner and the food inside Alice’s fridge had rotted during her time away. Kady ordered them pizza instead, and they awaited the fast food with hungry stomachs.

“Eliza,” Alice said after the trio had stuffed themselves full, “We can start tomorrow. I think we should all get some rest. Today has been quite the exhilarating journey. I have a spare room you can take.”

Kady waited until Eliza had slunk off to speak. Her voice floated in the dark evening air. Alice’s living room was spacious and the sound carried. It could’ve lulled Alice to sleep. 

“Where will I sleep?” Kady asked. 

“The couch isn’t comfortable,” Alice voiced. “If you want, my bed is large and we could both easily fit.” 

“That’s a possibility,” Kady said. She rubbed her thigh as though chilled. And then she added. “I wonder what made her think we were a couple.”

“You put your hand on my shoulder,” Alice reminisced. 

Kady, thoughtfully, slid closer to Alice. Her hand balanced on Alice’s ankle and slowly climbed up the length of her leg. Tremors vibrated through Alice, she became alive from the fire spilling from Kady’s touch. The light that stood in the corner near the couch fell over Kady’s face. It was the first time Alice noticed she’d wiped away the cherry red lipstick. 

It was the easiest moment to predict; the light kiss that Kady pressed gently onto Alice’s lips. Warmth encroached on Alice and she reached up a hand to cup Kady’s cheek, to drag the kiss on longer. She wanted this moment forever. Kady dragged her lips away from Alice’s own, her eyes heaving with delicious temptation. Her lips moved to the softness of Alice’s cheek, and Alice melted beneath the touch. 

“This is fun,” Kady whispered against Alice’s cheek. Alice giggled lightly and moved her hand, thumb brushing delicately over Kady’s lips. 

“It is,” Alice replied. “I never want it to end.”

And she brought her hand away from Kady, sitting up and away. Though, Alice did not leave Kady with empty hope, grabbing her hand in Alice’s own. 

“But there is a child next-door that we must take home,” Alice said. “And I haven’t slept in my own bed for three months.” It wasn’t a moment Alice wanted to stop, but she knew if she didn’t they would forever float in that blissfulness; too unaware, unable to pay heed to the task they’d set themselves up with.

Alice walked Kady to her bedroom, the lights remaining off as they slipped into sleepwear and crawled under the heavy covers. It was returning home. Like opening a book and smelling the pages, Alice knew. _Home_. _Home_. _Home_. She was so glad to be back.

The night carried forth and Alice rolled over at one point and watched Kady’s steady breaths. Her body rose in rhythm and Alice tried to match it, but failed. She did not feel so alone in the world anymore.

In the morning the three girls went out for breakfast and planned their next move. Eliza was honest. She wanted to help, she knew wholeheartedly that her parents did not abandon her. As Alice ordered bacon and a foot tall amount of pancakes, Eliza told Kady and Alice that the best place to find clues as to where her parents vanished were at their house. It skirted the edge of Manhattan. Only an hour drive from Alice’s place. They decided to head there after breakfast, which they savored every second of. 

The metro ride was quiet between them, although the fellow passengers spoke loudly about the happenings for the rest of their day. A rat peeked it’s musty head from underneath one of the seats and Alice grimaced. Eliza was intrigued, however.

When they finally reached the outskirts of Manhattan, Eliza guided them to her home. Alice wondered why she’d been so far away; was she unable to return to her house somehow? Somehow without the guidance that she had now?

A key had been hidden under the mat in front of the door and Eliza reached for it. 

“Wait,” Kady said. Her arm stretched out to block both Alice and Eliza. “There are wards protecting this door. Stand back.”

With the same ease and charm, Kady twirled her fingers. Latin flowed from her lips and the wards came undone. Eliza slotted in the key, turning the lock. The door opened and the trio stepped inside. 

It was homely, when they stepped through the door; the remnants of a well-lived life scattered upon the walls. There was a calmness of domesticity that rang out within the empty home. Photographs of three adults and a young girl were placed orderly on the wall, and directly across from the entrance stood a tall, looming clock. It was wooden with great goat heads sprouting from either side. The separation is what drove Alice toward it. Of all this neatness, it was the one thing that stood out. 

Her fingers brushed against the glass. The clock hands were frozen in place. Alice tilted her head in confusion. 

A hand settled itself on her shoulder, Alice knew who it was. 

“Eliza,” Alice called. “Is this clock familiar to you?” It had to be. It rested inside her house. Eliza must’ve passed by it every day. As Alice awaited a reply, she glanced over at one of the photographs. Her mother was instantly recognizable, with the same smooth skin and tumbling hair. She stood alongside two men; a tall man with black, curling locks of hair, and a shorter man who smiled brightly, brown hair weeding itself in front of his face. They looked so happy together. No wonder Eliza believed they didn’t abandon her. 

“Yes,” Eliza said. “I think they’ve gone to Fillory.”

“Fillory?” Alice asked.

“That’s a fictional world,” Kady said, confused. “And even if it were real, why would they not return.”

“Maybe they can’t,” Eliza whispered solemnly. 

Eliza, with care and caution, opened the door on the clock. Alice hadn’t noticed the handle beforehand and jumped back when it swung open and light streamed onto the hardwood floor. As if this were a normal occurrence, Eliza stepped into the clock. Alice and Kady spared each other a bewildered glance before following after.

“Eliza!” a sugary sweet voice called; it’s tone licked the air, filling it up with happiness. It was the joyful sound of relief. Of reunion. “My darling!”

A clamor of other voices mixed. Alice reached for Kady’s hand and was thankful to find it. 

All around them they were greeted with curling stone walls, vines creeping up the side. In front of them sat four empty thrones. Alice looked for the sound of the woman’s voice and saw Eliza bunched in the arms of… her mother. The woman glanced up at the whispers of her daughter, noticing both Alice and Kady. 

“Hey!” she shouted. “Thank you!”

They watched in brief silence at the reunion and ducked once more through the clock. If the clock had locked the three parents out from returning, Alice and Kady did not want to be stuck like them. They clambered back into the house they’d come from 

It was warm inside the house, now; the two felt like strangers, breaching a land they were not welcome in, that the walls around them were foreign. 

“Let’s go back to my place,” Alice said briskly and reached once more for Kady’s hand, a repetitive and appeasing remembrance that someone was there; that someone wanted her. 


End file.
